There’s plenty to discuss over turkey and cranberry sauce this year, which makes this an important time to be the voice of reason amidst a sea of misinformation. Here’s how you can do that.
On Saturday morning, a large group of motorcyclists gathered at Heron’s Head Park in San Francisco’s Hunters Point district for a Black Lives Matter Solidarity ride. Organized by the Dames Don’t Care Motorcycle Collective, with help from the San Francisco Motorcycle Club, there was a great turnout. As we arrived,
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The fire extinguisher sign was what started it all. Standing on a subway platform in Copenhagen, I wondered what the half circle was about. Kinda looked like a taco… We are fortunate to live on a planet with a multitude of different people and cultures. Try as we might, there’s
The Saloon, in North Beach, is regularly touted as San Francisco’s oldest bar, dating back to 1861. While other bars were started sooner, their original buildings were destroyed during the 1906 earthquake and fire. The Saloon miraculously survived thanks to the firefighters and sailors that stretched a hose from the Bay in order to rescue the prostitutes that lived above the watering hole.
The Spike (Begin at the beginning of the story here) A titch later we’re drying off by a burn barrel, pretty high up on the cliff face, and the Seertlekimmie is telling me about the harvests. The rays and octopus are coming in more and more, but landin’ a whale’s
It’s opening night for the latest exhibit at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts. Under-, over-, and well-dressed people of every age and persuasion are chatting in drink lines and dancing in the pink-tinged darkness of the Center’s theater. In short order the DJ will blast a snarky, sugary
Part Five Jump the Shark (Begin at the beginning here) The next day I go to see the Seertlekimmie. He’s up and about, putzing around the dock and even though he ain’t lookin’ so hot he seems in good spirits. We stroll around the docks, a sprawling maze of rickety
While many people feared their jobs would be replaced by robots, there was a resounding belief that mechanization would usher in a utopia free from the drudgery of manual labor. Artists enamored by the stark, sterile beauty of machinery, gave rise to a little known but pervasive art movement called Precisionism.